A Lotus Flower, Fully Open

Long have I guarded you, the treasures

of the study.  My ink brush,

ink, paper, ink stone.  After the exhibition in Kuala Lumpur,

I drank shots of Xifengjiu.  Tonight, I sang in the airport bus.

Still half drunk, I boarded, ready

to carry you home.


When we lost communication, I held you, painting

the three symbols of crisis, ending

with an upward sweep.  As smoke began seeping

from the pilot’s cabin, I drew fire:  A tree standing

in flame.  As I breathed smoke, I knew I had to begin

the symbols to drag us toward death.  I wonder


in the thousands of years of our art, how many others have passed on

holding you, ready to finish the last stroke of


2 thoughts on “A Lotus Flower, Fully Open

  1. You keep adding layers of lives in these poems. So good , Rose. Thank you for doing this!

    He opens up to
    the woman next to him
    seeing appreciation
    in her eyes
    until fear
    overtakes all.

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